An Ode to Mom
As all of you are aware, I'm an author. But I am also quite fond of reading. Who helped me develop an interest in books, you might wonder? My mom. She began bringing me books from the library when I was young. She knew exactly what book I'd like at every stage of my life:
Beverly Cleary's Ramona the Pest at age ten; Danielle Steel at age 15--all those romances, and those crooked/lopsided smiles, not to mention countless gorgeous people. My mother helped to foster my interest in classics during high school, and then memorable fiction by Joyce Carol Oates and Elizabeth Berg as an adult. Many times I'd be lost in a book, as if in a movie, ignoring most of the people around me. My grandmother might remove the book from my hands, say (sometimes rather loudly) "Talk to me, Sandy, would you?!" My brother might wonder if I'd play with him, or read. But my mom would continue to check out those library books for me, as well as for my older sister and younger brother (later for my retired dad!). And I probably should have been more conversational with all of my family members--my grandmother, my cousin, my aunt, still other people. Today, I retire early to bed with a book or my kindle. And so does my mom. I also frequent my library and local independent bookstore, Westwinds. I am internally grateful for the love of reading that my mother bestowed on our family. Thank you, Mom! Love you! You're the best!